


Not Quite Pumpkin Pie

by fictorium



Category: West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another retreat to Manchester, another... incident.</p><p>For thistlechaser @LJ</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Pumpkin Pie

“I shouldn’t even be here,” CJ groans, removing yet another strand of pulp from her hair. She has a bad, bad feeling that there are some seeds in the vicinity of her bra right now, and there is no dignified way to remedy that in a farmhouse kitchen.

 

Toby scowls at her. “You’re the one--correct me if I’m wrong here--but you are the one who suggested a team-building exercise, are you not?”

 

“Toby’s got a point, CJ,” Josh pipes up from where he’s mopping his shirt ineffectually with a towel. Orange streaks the blue denim, and she has to bite back the urge to smack him. Luckily Donna hits him upside the head to make up for it.

 

“CJ isn’t the one running around with equipment she has no idea how to handle!” Donna scolds, shrugging out of the oversized Harvard sweater she borrowed, also a mess of pulp.

 

“You know, there’s an obvious joke--” Sam says, somehow still looking almost pristine, but he shuts the hell up in a hurry off CJ’s joke.

 

The door opens and just when they’re expecting the President, something much worse happens: the first lady walks in.

 

“Well,” she says. “Who’d like to count up the ages of everyone in the room? And then break that down into years spent at the country’s most prestigious learning institutions?”

 

“Ma’am,” Josh begins to explain, but Abbey raises a hand to silence him.

 

“I expect this from my grandchildren,” she says. “I expected it from you all on the first campaign, when everyone in Manchester had a complaint to make about your behavior. But I did not expect it from Senior Staff of the White House.”

 

“Mrs Bartlet,” Toby attempts, but she cuts him off.

 

“It’s Dr Barlet,” she snaps. “And you can also stop messing up my sitting room and take yourselves out to the barn.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” CJ says, ushering everyone out in front of her. “Is the President--”

 

“He’s currently getting a briefing from the Secret Service about the unauthorized use of rifles on the property. Not to mention the destruction of a significant portion of this year’s pumpkin crop.”

 

“In our defense, we really were trying to hit the targets in the barn,” Sam says, lawyer hat firmly back on. “It’s just that--”

 

“You’re a bunch of liberal city-slickers who think gun control is just for other people, because you’re far too smart to ever cause any damage with one, right? Just like last year, with the dirt bikes, which you abandoned in the furthest possible field.”

 

The room falls silent then, and they shuffle out under Abbey’s furious but watchful eye. 

 

“We’re really very sorry, ma’am,” Donna says as she’s the last to leave. “I’ll try to keep them in line.”

 

“I’d appreciate it, Donna. This house has stood for 150 years. I’m damned if I’m gonna let a bunch of speechwriters burn it down.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Donna says, dashing the rest of the way and pulling the door closed behind her.

 

“Josh!” She calls out as they troop back out through the kitchen. “You owe me big time for this one.”


End file.
